Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Catalina was in a daydream, enjoying the balmy air when, suddenly, something heavy fell upon her shoulders and swamped her. Not knowing what it could be and never having felt anything like it before, she screamed in alarm and jumped back into a fighting stance, thinking she was being attacked and had to defend herself.

When she saw Ivar standing over her, his hands by her shoulders, and realized he had thrown his coat over her shoulders, she gasped and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Och, ’tis naught but yer coat,” she breathed, clutching her chest. “Ye gave

me a terrible shock, Ivar, I thought someone was tryin’ tae attack me!”

He looked as surprised as she was, and they stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she began to laugh, and so did he.

“I’m sorry if I startled ye. I didnae mean tae. I was just worried about ye getting’ cold is all. I thought I was helpin’ by givin’ ye me coat,” he explained, enjoying the sound of her laugh.

She pulled the coat around her, wanting to show him she was grateful for his thoughtfulness. “That’s very kind of ye, but next time, can ye give me some warnin’ before ye dae anythin’ like that? I was about tae kick ye somewhere far worse than in yer head.”

“Good thing I’ve got good reflexes then,” he replied ruefully. “I’ve still got that damned lump on me head ye gave me. I can do without any more injuries from ye, thank ye.”

“Well, I would never have kicked ye like that in the wood if I’d kent who ye were. Ye should ken better than tae put yerself in danger by creepin’ up on me. Have ye nae learned what a dangerous foe I can be?” She said, feeling the urge to tease him a little now that they were actually talking, and he did not appear to be angry with her.

“’Twas a nice thought tae give me yer coat, but I can look after meself.” But she did not hand him back his coat. It was lovely and warm inside, and it smelled of him.

“This is the thanks I get fer tryin’ tae be the gentleman,” he complained, then his face broke into the most beautiful smile that made her heart turn over. “I’m well aware that ye can look after yersel’, but d’ye nae ever want someone tae look after ye just a wee bit?”

He was watching her intently, his eyes an extraordinarily vivid pale blue. They seemed to look right into her. His words made goosebumps rise up on her skin, and she was suddenly filled with a strange, glowing warmth. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. He was like nobody she had ever met before.

“Thank ye fer leavin’ me the book,” she said, feeling shy as she lifted it to show him.

“Well, ye came all the way down tae get it, and then…” He trailed off, giving a small shrug.

“Then we got intae another argument,” she put in, a smile coming unbidden to her lips.

“I felt bad about that afterwards, after ye left,” he admitted to her surprise.

“I’d never have guessed. I didnae think ye had it in ye tae feel bad. Nae when it comes tae me at any rate.”

“Well, ye must be very surprised then.” He smiled again, and again, her heart skipped a beat.

“Och, I am. I surely am.”

An awkward silence full of crackling energy overtook them, and they dawdled there on the grass in the sunshine, exchanging uncertain glances and half smiles, surrounded by the hum of busy insects. Hardly knowing what to do or say, Catalina looked to the flowers for distraction, and to hide her blushing cheeks. Marigolds, poppies, and several colorful varieties of daisies, both large and small, made for a bright tapestry couched within the hollows of a neatly trimmed knot garden next to where they were standing.

“They’re so pretty, are they nae?” she asked for lack of anything better to say,

brushing her fingers through the green fronds and soft petals. “’Tis a very beautiful garden.”

“Aye, thank ye, I think so too,” he said, with a nod, looking, she thought, strangely pleased. “This was our maither’s favorite part of the gardens. She designed it herself, although the original knot gardens are much older. She planted most of the flowers here herself because she liked the colors. She always said it was her private rainbow, and she would often sit out here in the summer.”

His voice was so soft and full of affection, as were his eyes, that Catalina was touched by the delicacy of his feeling for his mother. It was hard to marry with the intimidating masculinity of his appearance.

“Which flowers did she like best, d’ye think?” she asked, intrigued to see him in this unexpectedly mellow mood. She found she liked it.

“I’m nae sure, but I ken she loved the marigolds. Little suns she used tae call them, their wee faces so bright and cheerful even on the gloomiest days.”

“They are, tae be sure,” Catalina agreed, unable to help smiling as she bent down to sniff one of the flowers. “They always seem tae want tae give ye a cheery greetin’.” She bent to sniff the next, delighting in the slightly earthy fragrance emanating from the vivid orange and yellow blooms. She was just straightening up when she was suddenly startled by a loud, frantic buzzing near her face, and the next thing she knew was a sharp, painful sensation on the back of her neck.

“Ouch!” she cried out, reeling backwards and slapping her hand to the sore spot. The crumpled corpse of a small bee, the obvious culprit, came away and fell to the grass. “It stung me, the wee tyke!”

Although the sting was painful, she was more surprised and annoyed than anything else. But to her astonishment, Ivar’s face went completely white, and his eyes filled with panic. He reached down and lifted her hair away from where she was holding her hand over the lump that was rapidly rising on her neck.

“Let me see,” he demanded, pulling her hand aside and inspecting the sting.

“Ach, ’tis just a wee sting. Ye need tae pull out the stinger,” she told him as

the throbbing pain increased.

“Nay, ye need tae see the healer, immediately!” he cried, and he took her by

surprise when he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and began running back to the castle. “I’ll take ye there right away!”

“What are ye doin’?” she exclaimed, bouncing along awkwardly in the cage of his arms as he plunged into the keep, keeping up a fast pace, leaping up the staircase, clearly heading for the infirmary on the castle’s second floor. “There’s nae need fer the healer. ’Tis just a bee sting. I can walk. Put me down!” she tried to insist.

“Nay, ’tis dangerous. The healer needs tae treat it now!”

Catalina gave up arguing, puzzled by Ivar’s strange change in demeanor. She could not figure out why he should be so terrified about something as simple as a bee sting, yet he seemed genuinely panicked. So, she allowed him to run with her along the hallway before he burst through the infirmary door.

“’Tis an emergency!” he shouted as the healers, Aine and Bròccan, who were seated together at a workbench mixing some potion in a mortar, looked up in obvious surprise.

“What is it? What’s happened?” asked Aine, a petite woman with red hair and dark brown eyes, her small face creased with concern. She left what she was doing and slipped immediately from her seat, rushing to help. Her male counterpart Bròccan, a tall, dark-haired man, whose good looks had earned him the secret adoration of all the castle maids, followed more slowly, wiping his hands on a clean cloth, his expression inquiring.

“Catalina’s been hurt!” Ivar cried before crossing the room and laying her on the bed.

“Hurt how? Where’s the injury?” Aine asked, following them and scrutinizing Catalina worriedly. Bròccan shut the door and then followed her to the bed.

“I’m nae injured,” Catalina told them, somewhat frustrated. She sat up, clutching her neck. ’Tis naught but a bee sting!”

“A bee sting?” Bròccan repeated, sounding disbelieving.

“Aye. I was sniffin’ the flowers in the garden, and the wee blighter popped up and got me,” Catalina explained. Ivar stood over all of them, panting slightly, his face pale and sweating.

“Bee stings can kill,” he suddenly declared. “Ye need tae tend tae it right away before the effects get any worse. Hurry!”

“Ye’d best let us take a look at it,” Bròccan said with a quizzical smile, clearly wondering, as Catalina was, why he appeared to be in such a panic.

“Here, on me neck.” Catalina pushed her hair aside and showed Aine and Bròccan the sting.

“Ach. ’Tis just a sting, and a small one at that,” Aine pronounced after a minute,

drawing back from her examination. “Have ye nay had any ill-effects from such a sting before, Catalina?”

Catalina shook her head. “Nay, just the usual pain.”

“Grand. Then there’s nae cause fer a fuss. Some soothing salve is all that’s needed.” Aine smiled at her and patted her shoulder.

“Aye, ’tis certainly naethin’ life-threatenin’,” Bròccan added, moving away from the bed and back to his workstation. “Aine will remove the stinger and give ye some salve tae soothe the pain.”

“Thank ye,” Catalina said gratefully, glad all the fuss was over. But she could not help seeing that Ivar still seemed more worried than was necessary, watching over her like a mother hen. It was a side of him she had never seen before.

“Is that it? Is that all ye’re going tae dae?” he asked, clearly dissatisfied and fixing his unnerving eyes on the two healers as they went about their business.

“There’s naethin’ more tae be done, Ivar,” Bròccan told him as he returned to the potion he had been mixing previously, “and certainly nay need tae panic.”

“Aye, I think ye went overboard a wee bit there, Ivar,” Aine agreed. She was by the bed, a small pair of tweezers between her fingers. “Now, hold still, Catalina. Ye might feel a slight pain when I pull out the stinger.”

“I was nae panicking,” Ivar protested, his high cheekbones becoming flushed. “These things can be very dangerous, I tell ye.” Catalina winced as the stinger was removed but then had to stifle a smile at his denial.

“I think ye did panic a wee bit, Ivar,” she said gently, touched by his concern, “but as ye can see, there’s nae need.”

Aine, who was now applying a salve to the bee sting, and Bròccan both laughed.

“I’ve never seen anybody look so scared of a bee sting,” Aine said teasingly, dabbing at the swelling on Catalina’s neck. “Especially nae a big, braw man such as yersel’.

“Aye. Seems like ye’re more afraid of a wee bee than some big, hairy foe,” Bròccan added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Catalina watched Ivar, knowing how he disliked being made fun of. She hoped he was not about to lose his temper again.

But he merely shrugged irritably, looking mightily embarrassed and said, “Ach, go ahead and laugh at me if ye must, but I’ve seen a bee kill faster than a big, hairy foe.”

“Thank ye, Aine, that feels better already,” Catalina told the healer as she finished her work.

“Take this salve and just apply it whenever ye need tae,” Aine said, handing her a small, covered pot. “It’ll be sore for a while, but the swelling should go down in a few days.”

“Aye, thank ye again.” Catalina swung her legs down from the bed to the floor and stood up. She looked at Ivar. He was clearly unhappy, and she thought it best to get out of there just in case he decided to make a scene. “Shall we go?”

Shooting a last, disapproving glance at the healers, he nodded sharply and opened the door for her, following her out into the hall.

“I suppose ye think ’tis funny too, seein’ me make such a fuss like that,” he said almost bitterly as they stood facing each other, now out of anyone’s earshot. “Go on, go ahead and laugh. Everyone else will when ye tell them.”

“I’m nae laughin’,” she replied, looking up into his eyes, touched yet nevertheless confused by his odd overreaction. “And I’m nae going tae say a word about it tae anyone, I promise,” she tried to assure him. She did not want to do anything to break the small connection they seemed to have made.

He stared down at her keenly. “D’ye mean it?”

“Aye, I said I promise, did I nae? Despite what ye may think, I’ve nae wish tae embarrass ye. Look, I’m very grateful fer yer concern and all, but there was nae need fer ye tae be so worried about me. I kent I didnae have an issue with a bee sting as I’ve been stung many times before.”

The way he looked at her then set her heart fluttering in her chest, and she became very aware of the same awkward tension as before building between them. She fancied he must feel it too, for just then, he seemed to make a visible effort to pull himself together and said sternly, “I’d be worried just the same fer anyone. At least that bloody wee bee lost its life in stingin’ ye and cannae dae the same tae anyone else, the nasty creature.”

Catalina was disappointed to realize that he had resumed his usual cold mask. “Ach, ye’re back tae bein’ bitter, I see. The bee was only doin’ what came naturally tae it, protectin’ itself when it thought it was bein’ attacked. Ye cannae blame it fer that,” she told him. “I’ve noticed that about ye, Ivar. Ye only see the bad in things, nae the good.” Though she spoke gently, telling the truth as she saw it in this rare moment of intimacy, she fully expected him to lash out at her again. She was very surprised when he did not.

He seemed to grope for words for a moment, then he looked into her eyes and said gravely, “I wasnae always this way, ye ken?”

“Nay?” Catalina saw the deep sorrow in his face, and she felt for him, touched that he should finally trust her enough to admit he had changed, just as Arne had assured her. She knew the loss of his twin was a difficult subject for him to broach, and the urge to offer him comfort was almost irresistible. She wanted to hug him, but she dared not in case it broke the spell that seemed to have fallen over them.

“Nay.” He shook his beautiful fair locks, looking mournful. “’Twas Thor’s death that changed me and made me this way.”

“Such a great loss is bound tae change a person,” she said, moved by his sudden vulnerability. “Come,” she said, “let’s walk.” They fell into step beside each other as they made their way down the hallway, to the staircase. “But ye ken, Ivar, in yer sorrow, I think ye risk forgettin’ that fer every bad thing in life, there’s something good. Like just now, with the bee sting.” She gestured with her hand at the sore spot on her neck. “All right, I got stung. That was bad. But it happened while me nose was full of the lovely scent of the flowers, so I cannae really complain.”

He snorted. “Well, that’s a roundabout way of lookin’ at things if ye ask me. What’s good about getting’ stung by the wee bastard when all ye were doin’ was smellin’ the flowers?”

“Ye could say so, aye, but as I say, the bee was only protectin’ itself the best way it kent how. And it lost its life in the process. There’s a lesson there, I reckon.”

Ivar stopped suddenly and turned to look down at her, so she had to stop too. What d’ye mean?” he asked.

“Well, I think bees and people are alike when it comes tae protectin’ what they care about. Like them, we get aggressive too and lash out when we perceive a threat to ourselves or what we care about. But as ye ken, sometimes, that perception can be completely wrong, and even though we may lash out in defense, there’s nae threat present at all.”

They were standing at the top of the landing, no more than a couple of feet away from each other, their gazes locked. Her breath shortened as the air between them seemed to sizzle with unspoken words. Looking into Ivar’s ice-blue eyes was like looking into a fire, and tiny shivers ran up Catalina’s spine like fingers. It felt as though a strange current was passing between them, a deep and silent communication she did not understand but keenly felt in every part of her being.

“Ye think so?” he whispered, not taking his eyes from hers.

“Aye, I dae.”

An inner force she could not identify seemed to be pulling her towards him, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from reaching up and stroking the harsh planes of his finely sculpted features as a great wave of affection for him washed over her. The tension between them was almost palpable, setting the air surrounding them aquiver, as if they were enclosed in a bubble.

What would it feel like to kiss those lips?